


Kindred 9: The Twins

by torturingtaylor (itzaimster)



Series: Kindred Series [9]
Category: Hanson
Genre: Brothers, Clones, Conspiracy, Gen, Genetics, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9795890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzaimster/pseuds/torturingtaylor
Summary: The fallout from what happened to Carey affects multiple clones, and Mark starts to seek help from unlikely sources. Alex starts to uncover more secrets from inside the labs. With Isaac's help, Keandre makes a big decision.





	1. Chapter 1

“Come on you son of a bitch,” Mark muttered under his breath as all he heard was dial tone.  
He winced as Carey’s voicemail came up.  
“Care where are you?” he asked between his teeth, “fucking Mike’s got me down at the station and he’s not going to let me go unless you get your ass down here!”  
He hung up in frustration before quickly dialling Emma’s number, glad that he’d taken the time to learn it.  
“Hello?” she answered apprehensively.  
“Em it’s Mark,” he ignored the people walking around him, “is Care there?”  
“No he went out a while ago. Why? What’s wrong?”  
“Mike’s got me here at the station downtown. I need someone to get down here and get me out.”  
“What? Why?!”  
“The car. Long story. But I need the car towed, they just left it on the street.”  
“I’m on it. Where is it?”  
She wrote down the address when he relayed it, working out in her head where it was. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get there herself.  
“I’ll let Care know when he gets back.”  
“Thanks,” Mark finally looked over his shoulder to the waiting officer, “hope I see at least one of you soon.”  
“Hold tight Mark.”

As soon as Emma ended the call she tried calling her husband. When it went through to voicemail she tried again. After the third time she grunted as she gave up, before deciding to call her friend Rachel instead.  
“Hey, any chance you could come over and Ellie-sit for a little while? Mark’s gotten himself in trouble and Care’s not answering his phone.”  
“What has Mark done now?”  
“I think he’s in trouble for stealing his own car.”  
“I knew that Camaro would raise some eyebrows…”  
“So are you free?”  
“Sure. I’ll be there soon.”  
“Thanks,” Emma quickly ended the call, and after checking on Ellie in her crib began the rush to get herself ready.  
She was out the door as soon as Rachel arrived and made her way straight to the garage, but she stopped in her tracks when she saw her husband’s SUV still sitting in the driveway.

“Carey Miller,” the shorter man handed Russo the California driver’s license from his wallet, “he’s a Miller.”  
Russo studied it carefully before eyeing Carey again. Carey hadn’t taken his eyes off him. After a quick hand signal the larger man that was holding Carey’s shirt quickly ripped the tape from his mouth. Carey yelped when part of his lip went with it.  
“What relation are you to Marcus and Colin?” Russo demanded, not giving him time to recover.  
“I’m Mark’s brother,” Carey’s voice shook, “I’m not… we’re not technically related to Colin.”  
“But you know who he is,” the shorter man stated.  
“I know who he was,” Carey confirmed, wondering just how much he should admit to.  
His eyes darted to the shorter man as he heard a phone vibrating. When he took it from his pocket Carey realised it was his again. The man ignored the call and put it back.  
“And do you know who I am?” Russo asked with interest.  
Carey hesitated, but nodded nervously.  
“Good. Then you know why you’re here.”  
“I don’t, I swear,” Carey shook his head, “I never had anything to do with anything! I don’t know what Mark’s doing!”  
“My boys saw you two together yesterday,” Russo was calm, in stark contrast to Carey, “they thought Colin had returned from the dead. Marcus told us he was Colin’s brother. Now you tell me neither of you are related. Who am I to believe?”  
“It’s complicated,” Carey’s brow furrowed.  
“Un-complicate it,” the larger man insisted, making Carey jump when he spoke.  
Carey paused, his heart well and truly racing.  
“Mark told you about the scientists, right?” he checked, looking between them.  
Russo nodded.  
“We’re clones,” he blurted, “we were made in a lab. There’s more of us but… we’re the only ones in LA right now.”  
“Clones,” the shorter man frowned, looking to Russo for guidance.  
“Explains a lot,” the larger one didn’t seem surprised at all.  
“How old are you?” Russo frowned.  
“34,” Carey wondered why he was asking.  
“Sounds about right,” the larger one shrugged, “what should we do?”  
Russo sighed to himself, looking Carey up and down. He was struggling to stay balanced on his feet already.  
“You are Mark’s twin, yes?” he presumed, “you grew up with him?”  
“I did,” Carey agreed.  
“Then we continue as planned,” Russo gave his men a nod, “take a seat, Carey Miller.”  
He jumped again as the larger man took a better hold of his shoulders so that he could drag him over to a nearby metal chair. He landed hard on it before quickly adjusting his weight. The larger man stood behind him with his hands on his shoulders as the shorter one began to untie his ankles.  
“What are you going to do?” Carey’s eyes were still on Russo, “I said I didn’t know anything!”  
“This is no longer about you, Carey,” Russo assured with a smile, “this is about your brother. You’re going to help us teach him a lesson in loyalty.”  
“What does that mean?” he flinched as his ankles were tightly tied to the legs of the chair instead.  
“All in good time,” Russo mused, watching on.

“Mark! Are you okay?!” Emma spotted him and made her way over.  
“I’m fine,” he frowned from inside the cell, “where’s Care?”  
“He’s not answering his phone,” she admitted with obvious worry, “I thought I’d better come down here myself in case you ended up stuck overnight.”  
“Well… thanks. But I’m not sure they want to let me go,” Mark’s voice lowered, “they’re trying to pin me for ID fraud because I look like Colin.”  
Emma paused at that, her mind working.  
“What have you told them?” she asked.  
“Just that we know him but we’re not related. I told them he gave me his car and I just haven’t transferred the papers yet.”  
“Miss-“  
“It’s Mrs now,” Emma scolded the officer over her shoulder, “I’ll be with you in a second.”  
“I don’t know what you can do,” Mark looked dismal.  
“Don’t worry. I have an idea,” she gave him a wink before turning to follow Price.  
She took a deep breath as she hoped it would work.  
“Please, take a seat.”  
“Is this really about you people thinking Mark was pretending to be Colin?” she demanded, still standing but putting a hand on the seat.  
“You’re going to tell me you know Colin?” Price smirked.  
“I do,” she insisted, “in fact, I could call him right now.”  
“We tried calling Miss, and there was no answer.”  
“ _Mrs_ ,” she reiterated, showing off her rings, “let me save you some time and paperwork. Not that you deserve it.”  
She dug her cell phone out of her handbag and quickly looked through for Natalie’s number. Praying internally that she’d both pick up and play along, she hit dial.  
“Emma? Is everything okay?” she answered almost right away.  
“Hey… not really,” she replied, “I’m here with Mark down at the LAPD, they think Mark has committed ID fraud and basically stolen Colin’s car. They’re saying they couldn’t get hold of Colin so… could I talk to him please?”  
There was a confused pause on the line.  
“Colin… as in the one that died?”  
“Yes sure,” Emma shrugged, forcing herself to sound casual.  
“Ah… Tay’s in the shower but I can try and get him for you?”  
“That’d be great.”  
“How long is this going to take?” Price demanded, Emma holding up a hand to stop him as she waited.

Natalie made her way through to the ensuite where she could still hear the shower running. Gritting her teeth awkwardly, she opened the door.  
“Tay? We have a situation that needs your attention,” she called out.  
“Now?!”  
“Yes, now!”  
There was a pause before the water shut off. She quickly handed him a towel when he opened the door.  
“What is it?” he frowned, seeing the phone in her hand.  
“It’s Emma, I think Mark’s been arrested,” she kept her voice down, “she needs ‘Colin’ to confirm that Mark didn’t steal his car or something.”  
“What?” Taylor frowned, “why would… you know what? I’m not gonna ask.”  
He quickly dried his face and shoulders off before wrapping the towel around his waist and taking the phone.  
“Emma?” he confirmed.  
“Hi Colin,” she smiled sweetly, “could you please talk to these gentlemen and get them to let Mark the Hell go?”  
“I’ll try,” Taylor confirmed, wiping some steam from the bathroom mirror as Natalie stood back.  
Emma held the phone out to Price. He was giving her a suspicious look, but he took the phone nonetheless.  
“This is Officer Jeffrey Price with the LAPD, who am I speaking to?”  
“Who are you speaking to?” Taylor fell back into the act surprisingly easy, “this is Colin Reis. I’m going to want your badge number.”  
“I’ll just get that for you…” Price frowned before quickly reciting it.  
Emma was watching with raised brows.  
“Why are you interrupting my vacation?” Taylor demanded once he’d finished.  
“We pulled over an individual earlier today who was driving a 2015 Camaro registered in your name,” Price had lost his authoritative tone already.  
“Mark Miller,” Taylor finished for him, “I gave him that car.”  
“You did?” Price was still surprised.  
“Yes. We’re going to finalise the transfer papers when I get back,” Taylor insisted, “nothing better have happened to that car.”  
“I don’t believe anything has, Sir,” Price looked sheepish, “just one other thing Mr Reis…”  
“What?”  
“How do I know I’m not talking to Carey Miller?”  
Taylor paused and grit his teeth.  
“Excuse me?” he said between them, counting on the delay.  
“It’s just that you all look and sound alike, how do I know you’re not Miller?”  
“Switch it to video mode,” Emma suggested.  
Taylor grimaced when he overheard it. But quickly figuring a way to make it work, he indicated for Natalie to come closer. He could hear Price fumbling with the phone before getting the video request on screen.  
He pulled Natalie in to his side before accepting.  
“Are you happy now?” he demanded, brow raised, “can I get back to my… _busy_ evening?”  
Natalie brushed some hair out of her face and chewed her bottom lip, playing along.  
“Of course. Sorry Mr Reis,” Price was taken aback at the sight, “I’m sorry to interrupt.”  
“Bother me again and I’ll have you fired,” Taylor insisted, “now, is Mark walking out of there or not?”  
“He is,” Price promised.  
“Good. Bye.”  
Taylor hung up and dropped the phone onto the bathroom vanity. Natalie broke into a laugh.  
“Okay that was fun but I really don’t want to do it again,” she mused.  
“Sorry, I couldn’t think of anything else,” he shook his head, “obviously if I was Carey I wouldn’t be with another woman so…”  
“It’s okay, I get it,” Natalie took the phone back, “I just hope it works.”

Price handed Emma her phone back, his face red.  
“I just need you to sign a release form and he’s free to go,” he kept his eyes down before moving to print one off.  
“Thank you,” she looked nothing but smug.  
He set the form down on the desk and she quickly signed it before he led her back toward the holding cell.  
“Miller!” he called out as he ordered the guard to unlock it, “you’re out! Again…”  
Mark stood from where he’d sat on the bench and made his way to the door. He didn’t say a word as he walked out, but he eyed Price with contempt.  
“Let’s get out of here,” Emma tapped him on the arm before turning on her heel.  
Mark grabbed his things from the guard before following her outside. He waited until they were out of earshot from the doors before asking.  
“So… what did you do?”  
“I called Colin,” she mused, unlocking her car, “aka Taylor. He vouched for you.”  
“He did?” Mark paused, scratching his arm.  
“Yeah,” she stopped with him, “why? Surprised?”  
“A little,” he admitted before moving to get into the car.  
She smirked to herself before throwing her handbag in the back and getting into the driver’s seat. Mark already had his phone out and was dialling Carey again.  
“Trying Care?” she guessed, “his car was still in the driveway when I left, but he only went to get some food. He could have walked but… I don’t know why he won’t answer.”  
“Something’s wrong,” Mark was frowning as another call went unanswered.  
“Don’t say that,” Emma didn’t bother starting the car.  
“I just have this feeling,” Mark gulped slightly, “come on Care, where the fuck-“  
He cut off when his phone rang. Seeing Carey’s name on the caller ID he quickly answered.  
“Care?! Where are you?!” he demanded.  
“Marcus Miller, I presume?”  
His blood ran cold at the sound of the voice, and his eyes shot to Emma. The look on his face made her sick to her stomach.  
“What is it?” she barely got out.  
“Russo,” he breathed.


	2. Chapter 2

“Where’s my brother?” was the first thing Mark got out.  
“He’s right here,” Russo assured.  
“ _Where_?”  
“That’s unimportant,” Russo made his way closer to Carey’s side, “I’d rather talk about what your brother has in store for tonight.”  
“What do you mean?” both Mark and Carey asked at the same time.  
Russo paused at the act before smiling. He gave the larger man a nod. Panicking all over again, Carey began to protest as he pulled the beanie from his head before pulling his hair back and stuffing it into his mouth. The shorter man came over with duct tape to make sure it stayed.  
“CARE?!” Mark shouted when he heard his brother’s yells stop suddenly.  
“What’s happening?!” Emma was fretting beside him in the car.  
“My men were instructed to collect you from the home you are currently residing in,” Russo revealed, “instead, they thought they’d caught Colin alive and well and brought in your brother by mistake.”  
“Then come back and take me, I’m all yours,” Mark insisted.  
“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, we’re quite pleased with what we have,” Russo assured, “now I’d like to explain what’s going to happen here, if you’ll listen.”  
“I’m listening,” Mark purposely kept his eyes away from Emma.  
Carey’s had gone to where the shorter man had pulled a mallet from the back of the car. As he got closer Carey tried to inch away, but he was tied down far too tightly.  
“Do you know what we do to people who try to run from us?” Russo asked casually.  
Mark clenched his teeth, holding the phone as tight as he dared so he wouldn’t drop it.  
“No,” he admitted, his eyes closed.  
“We break their legs,” Russo informed him.  
Carey began his muffled protests again as the mallet drew closer.  
“Please don’t do this,” Mark begged, “he had nothing to do with it. _I’m_ the one you want.”  
“Which leg would you prefer to keep?” the shorter man offered Carey, moving the mallet between them, “the left… or the right?”  
Russo came closer and put the phone on speaker. Mark could hear his brother’s desperate panting.  
“Russo?!” he called out, “don’t do this!”  
“If you don’t choose, I will,” the mallet continued moving from shin to shin.  
Carey squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to take deep breaths.  
“Left…?”  
He shook his head.  
“…Or right?”  
Carey’s breathing slowed, and he nodded. The yell that came from his throat when the mallet hit his shin was loud despite the gag.  
“Fuck!” Mark hit the window of the car with his fist before covering his mouth.  
“What?!” Emma’s voice rose, well on the verge of panic, “is he okay?!”  
“He’s fine,” Mark forced out, not sounding at all honest.  
Carey’s fists had clenched with the pain as he continued to cry out. When he finally started working to catch his breath again he caught sight of the mallet moving in his peripheral.  
“Just kidding,” the shorter man shrugged, “I’m taking both.”  
Carey didn’t have time to react before the other shin was hit. Mark heard the crack through the phone and jolted. He closed his eyes again as he started picturing the rehab his brother would have to go through for this.  
“I hope you’re still listening,” Russo said into the phone.  
“I’m still here,” Mark’s voice broke.  
“Good. Because I have another question for you.”  
“What is it?” Mark tried to ignore Carey’s cries in the background.  
He heard the clunk as the mallet was set aside.  
“Do you know what we do to people who steal from us?”  
Carey’s eyes opened again when he heard that. Instead of the mallet, the man was holding a meat cleaver.  
“Steal?! What are you talking about?!” Mark jumped on, “I never stole from you! You can’t just punish him for shit you’ve made up!”  
“Colin Reis was more than just a lawyer to us, he was practically family,” Russo began to explain, “and he did a lot of things for us, both under employ and just because he could. One thing he did for us without asking anything in return was hold vast amounts of cash hidden on his property.”  
Mark leant back in his seat and cringed as it dawned on him.  
“When you left Chicago, we made sure to check all the places he’d told us to look. Imagine our surprise…”  
“Look, I don’t have that money anymore,” Mark interrupted, “but I can replace it. Name your price and I’ll get it.”  
“I expect you to work it off,” Russo revealed, “but that doesn’t change the punishment you are due.”  
“Carey?!”  
“He can’t hear you,” Russo had taken the phone off speaker, “but I’m sure you’ll hear him.”  
Carey’s eyes were glued to the cleaver waving over his hands. The pain from his legs was already making him shiver and he could feel the sweat falling from his forehead.  
“Which one?” the man taunted, the other still holding Carey’s shoulders back.  
Carey’s fists clenched tighter as he struggled to hold himself together. He couldn’t concentrate through the pain but the man’s words echoed through him.  
“One of them is going,” he insisted, “remember what happens if you keep me waiting…?”  
Carey grunted at that before forcing himself to uncurl his right hand.  
“This little piggy?” he asked when Carey raised his pinkie.  
Carey nodded and the larger man suddenly let him go. He moved around to the arm of the chair and took hold of his hand so his accomplice could lay the small finger out. Carey felt the tears fall from his eyes as he saw the cleaver rise.  
Once again, Mark heard the muffled scream.  
“We have some more work to do here, but while we do I’d like to remind you…” Russo began, “we’ve been here for some time. My boys have followed you. We know that your brother isn’t the only one you keep company with.”  
Mark covered his mouth again as he too began to feel sick.  
“If you ignore us again, consider this an appetizer.”  
Russo ended the call and Mark dropped the phone.  
“Mark I swear to God-“  
“Do you have a GPS locator for his phone on yours?” Mark couldn’t look her in the eye.  
“Yeah…?”  
“Use it.”

Emma tried hard not to speed on the way to the location, but it was very hard. Especially when Mark refused to tell her anything. It was worse when they finally made it and he refused to let her out of the car.  
It had taken them a good half hour to find the place and he wanted to make sure the Italians had cleared the area. He wasn’t about to leave Emma unsupervised if they were still around, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. After waiting a moment to see if there was any movement, Mark got out of the car himself.  
“Mark?”  
“Stay here!” he ordered, “and lock the doors. I’ll be back as soon as I find him.”  
Before she could say anything else, he’d headed for an open door to the side of the warehouse. She did as he’d said and made sure the doors were locked, keeping an eye out despite not knowing who she was looking for.  
Mark felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck as he walked into darkness.  
“Care?!” he called out, at the same time praying he wouldn’t be jumped by Russo’s ‘boys’.  
When nothing happened he fumbled against the wall as he felt for a light switch. Finally coming across a power box he used the light from his cell phone screen to find the right switch and flip it.  
The warehouse lights came on, revealing an empty concrete floor with tire marks, and Carey slumped in a chair at the other end. Mark bolted for him.  
“Carey?” he tried again, leaning over him to lift his chin.  
He didn’t respond. Trying to ignore the amount of blood and the very obvious way that his legs were sitting at odd angles, Mark fought against the tape that was holding the gag.  
“Come on Care, wake up,” he pleaded softly, shaking him between pulls.  
Unable to keep his hands steady he gave up for the moment and grabbed his phone instead. He dialled 911.  
“911, what’s your emergency?”  
“My brother… he’s not waking up,” his voice shook, “and he’s hurt real bad.”  
“What’s the address?”  
Mark struggled to remember as he put his hand to Carey’s neck. He felt his eyes start to water when he felt a dull pulse.  
“I’ve dispatched an ambulance to your location. Is he breathing?”  
“Yes,” Mark backed off a little before aiming for Carey’s wrists.  
He began to untie the rope, pausing only when he saw the state of his right hand.  
“Jesus Christ,” he covered his mouth for a second before pulling himself together and continuing.  
“Can you see any obvious head injury?”  
“It’s hard to tell, it’s dark in here,” Mark admitted, dropping the rope and quickly checking, “I mean there’s blood in his hair but… there’s blood everywhere! I can’t see anything!”  
“OH MY GOD!”  
Mark jumped when he heard Emma’s scream. He hadn’t heard her come in.  
“Go back to the car! _Please!_ ” he begged her.  
“Fuck you!” she scorned, racing to her husband’s side, “Care?! Care it’s me! Carey wake up…”  
“Sir can you give me your name?”  
“Mark, Mark Miller,” he stood back so that Emma could have a go at getting the gag off.  
“And your brother…?”  
“Carey Miller. We’re both 34. About 185 pounds,” Mark rattled off, “please just get them here.”  
“Oh my God,” he heard Emma cry as she pulled the beanie from his mouth, “there’s blood!”  
“What does that mean?” Mark’s brow furrowed worriedly.  
“It means he’s bleeding internally,” she used the beanie to wipe his mouth.  
Mark looked up as he heard sirens in the distance.  
“They’re nearly here,” he tried to reassure her, “he’ll be okay. He’ll be okay.”  
“Did Russo do this?!” she demanded, making him step back a little.  
“Don’t worry about that right now,” he insisted, “let’s just get him to the hospital.”  
The sirens echoed through the industrial area as the ambulance got closer, and knowing Emma would stay with Carey he made his way back to the door to wave them in. The paramedics came at a run and forced Emma aside so they could quickly check him over. They soon decided he needed immediate transport to the hospital.  
Mark helped one of them untie his brother’s ankles as the gurney was brought in, before standing back and keeping Emma in a tight hug as he was carefully lifted onto it. The moment they began to wheel him out she broke free and followed.  
Mark insisted she give him her car keys and go with Carey in the ambulance. She was in no state to drive. He wasn’t particularly either, but he knew they couldn’t leave the car behind. He waited until they were both safely in the ambulance and it had started to race away before he bothered moving toward it.  
Once in the car he had to stop to catch his breath. In the first glimpse he’d gotten of his brother, he thought he’d been dead. Now there was a very real possibility that it was still going to happen.  
He rubbed his face and wiped at his eyes before starting the car. There was still thankfully no sign of Russo. If they hadn’t been able to track Carey’s cell phone, Mark knew he would have been left for dead. But he couldn’t feel angry yet. He couldn’t feel anything but fear right now.  
He couldn’t lose Carey. Not like this.

“How many were there?” Jesse was frowning.  
“A lot,” Alex insisted, “like I’m talking… fifty or so?”  
“With all their personal info?”  
“Sort of. There were names and addresses, kind of like a personnel file.”  
“How can there be that many?” Jesse’s look hadn’t changed, “how could they keep that under wraps? Why would Morris tell us there were only _twelve_?”  
“Well… the birth dates were all staggered,” Alex shrugged, more hopeful than anything else, “maybe they aren’t all like us. Maybe they look like somebody else.”  
Jesse paused to consider that.  
“Makes sense,” he agreed, “can you find out for sure?”  
“I could ask Damien but that’s all I got,” Alex looked awkward, “he knew I was on his laptop. I think he’s keeping me under surveillance.”  
“I’d be more surprised if they weren’t,” Jesse shot the guard a glance, “you’re the new guy, and you’re heavily invested. Not to mention friendly with their current security risk.”  
“I guess…” Alex frowned.  
They both looked up as the door opened. Jesse shifted on the bed as Damien poked his head in.  
“Alex?” he looked nervous, “I think there’s something you might want to see.”  
“What is it?” Alex hugged himself.  
“Just…” he indicated for Alex to go with him.  
“Go,” Jesse insisted, “fill me in later. I’m not going anywhere.”  
Alex bit his lip but followed Damien out of the cells. Damien waited until the guard closed the door behind them before leading Alex away.


	3. Chapter 3

“Why are you nervous?” Alex asked, his anxiety spiking with the observation.  
“Not nervous, excited,” Damien corrected, attempting to hide a grin, “there’s been a discrepancy in one of the tracking chips. Now I get to show you how they work.”  
“The tracking chips?” Alex stopped walking.  
He remembered talking to Carey about pulling one apart to find out. But they’d never gotten to do it. The timing hadn’t been right since Carey had cut his out.  
“I thought Mark was the only one who had one,” he quickly covered.  
“Not anymore,” Damien couldn’t hide his smile, “now you and I are the only ones without them again.”  
Finding it an odd thing to be proud of, Alex frowned as Damien opened a door he hadn’t been through before. Inside was what looked like a small computer lab and Alex mentally berated Damien for never showing him this before.  
Damien made his way to the nearest monitor and sat down to begin to type.  
“What kind of discrepancy?” Alex tried to stay focused.  
“The chips not only track a GPS location down to a few yards, but they also keep us updated on the target’s vital signs so we know when things go wrong,” Damien was typing away.  
“How?”  
“How?” he glanced up, “it registers the subject’s pulse and their heart rate. Confused the Hell out of us when Jesse took his out.”  
“Why?” Alex asked, seeing some charts come up on the screen.  
“He didn’t tell you?” Damien looked up again.  
Alex shook his head.  
“He put it in a dog,” Damien smirked, “because he didn’t want us to know he was on his way to Dallas to retrieve Taylor Hanson. We spent five days tracking that damn dog to find out what had happened. It was like there was a blip in the system and then a higher blood pressure average. It’s obvious now when we think back but at the time…”  
“What’s that?” Alex indicated the screen.  
“It’s a flow chart comparing three of the chips,” Damien indicated with his finger, “this is Taylor’s, semi-stressed is normal for him but he seems to spike in the early mornings after sleep. This is Mark’s, constantly up and down, and this… is Carey’s. These are all from the past three hours.”  
Alex’s eyebrows rose when he saw the spike in the charts, followed by a near-flat line. In comparison to Mark’s which seemed to spike after a small gap between them.  
“Something’s wrong,” Alex stepped closer to study it.  
“Exactly,” Damien was unable to hide his excitement now, “and it looks like Mark was involved somehow because it’s as though they almost trade off here.”  
He indicated the gap.  
“This is like a soap opera to you,” Alex realised aloud, “this is your entertainment, isn’t it?”  
“It’s not entertainment, it’s work,” Damien scowled, “I’m allowed to enjoy my work when it isn’t boring.”  
“But something’s _wrong_ ,” Alex emphasized, “we need to check on the Miller brothers.”  
Damien shrugged.  
“That’s not my job,” he frowned, “that goes to tactical response, and Morris has to approve it.”  
“Don’t you at least have to let him know then? So he can organise something?”  
“This isn’t priority,” Damien looked confused, “I was just showing you because it was interesting, we can’t really do anything about it.”  
“Then let me call Mark again!” Alex was showing his worry, “let me check on them!”  
Damien just rolled his eyes.  
“It’s getting late,” he closed the program down, “we should really eat and get ready for bed.”  
“How am I supposed to sleep knowing they might be in trouble?” Alex demanded, “what if we could help them?!”  
Damien stood and put a hand on his shoulder.  
“Like I said, it’s not our problem,” he insisted, “life goes on out there and it is what it is. Come on.”  
He left the room, expecting Alex to follow. Alex’s mind raced trying to think of a way to get to the phone again without Damien shadowing him.  
“Alex?!”  
He begrudgingly followed, closing the door behind himself, before following Damien toward the cafeteria. Maybe he could sneak out during the night sometime while Damien slept.

When Mark got to the hospital he found Emma sitting nervously in the waiting room. He hesitated at the sight of her before making his way over.  
“Hey,” he said softly when she looked up.  
“He’s in surgery,” she said first, “they think he has a punctured lung from a broken rib. He could be drowning in his own blood.”  
Mark gulped at that and looked up toward the door into the ward.  
“How long?” he asked.  
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, at a loss.  
He took a moment to process it himself before taking a seat beside her. When he went to put a hand on her shoulder she leant away from him.  
“What did you do?” she asked, her voice still quiet.  
He took his hand back and diverted his eyes.  
“I know this has something to do with you. So you need to tell me. What did you do?”  
“Are you sure that now’s the-“  
“If you don’t tell me so help me God you are sleeping on the streets until he gets out,” Emma said between her teeth.  
Mark felt his face go red. He leant forward onto his knees as he tried to work out how to tell her.  
“I ran,” he had to clear his throat, “I ran, and… they didn’t like it. They tracked me down and… they found Care instead. They thought he was Colin.”  
“So he’s in hospital instead of Colin?” she tried to understand.  
“No,” he corrected, “he’s there instead of me. They were going to hurt me.”  
He grit his teeth as he felt his eyes welling up again.  
“This is all because of me.”  
Before Emma could retort they both jumped as the ward door opened. When it wasn’t for them they both had to catch their breath.  
“You’d better hope he comes out of this alive,” Emma refused to look in his direction.  
Mark wanted to say that no one wanted that more than he, but he kept his mouth shut. She had every right to be furious with him. If he had the energy he would be too.

After the kids had gone to bed Isaac and Nikki had retired to the couch to watch television for the night. Keeping an eye out already, Isaac looked over his shoulder when he saw Keandre’s shadow emerge from the hallway.  
“Everything okay Kea?” he asked him, causing Keandre to look up from his phone.  
“No,” he admitted, looking like he didn’t really want to interrupt their night.  
Isaac gave Nikki a glance before untangling himself from her arms. He stood and made his way over to him before pulling him into the kitchen.  
“Pardon,” Keandre apologised right away.  
“It’s no bother,” Isaac waved his hand dismissingly.  
He led him to the counter where they both took a seat. Keandre was looking nervous.  
“What’s wrong?” Isaac asked, pulling his phone over so they could use the translator if they had to.  
In Keandre’s short time there he’d made long strides in learning English, but he was still far from being able to dissect everything himself.  
“I don’t know what I do now,” Keandre shook his head, “I try, I think, but I know not.”  
“It’s a lot to take in,” Isaac tried to reassure him, “I know it will take time.”  
“But time…” Keandre frowned, “I need to do something, not wait.”  
“What do you want to do?” Isaac asked him.  
“I want… être courageux,” Keandre broke his English, “I want to see this. Not run from this.”  
“How?” Isaac’s eyes narrowed, “we’re all running from this, in a sense.”  
Keandre gave in and took Isaac’s phone. Isaac was patient as he typed, registering what looked like growing anxiety. Keandre stopped to rub his eyes after a while and Isaac realised he hadn’t worn either his contacts or his glasses for days. He wondered if he even had them with him anymore.  
When he finally finished he handed the phone over, and Isaac began to wonder if he was just overtired. He knew he hadn’t been sleeping well because he’d wake at random hours of the night and hear him walking around. It had been keeping Monroe awake a bit too.  
‘I want to face the scientists. I need to find out about my past. I need to work out if I am real, and where I go from here.’  
“Of course you’re real,” Isaac frowned as he read, “I’m not sure that translated right.”  
Keandre took the phone back and retyped.  
‘Do I have a soul, if I am man made?’  
When Isaac realised what he’d meant, he sighed and rubbed his face tiredly.  
“This is above my paygrade,” he murmured to himself.  
He wondered if Taylor was having the same reservations. If he was, he hadn’t hinted at it yet.  
“I want to know what they want,” Keandre said carefully, “I want to end it. I want to live.”  
“I get it,” Isaac insisted, “I had the same idea. Only it didn’t work so well for us.”  
He paused with a sigh as he thought it over.  
“But maybe it’ll be different for you,” he thought out loud, “if you don’t have anything to hide. Keandre… where’s your Mom?”  
Keandre hesitated, unsure of the word. He translated it for himself.  
“Dead,” he read out, “she is dead.”  
“I’m sorry,” Isaac frowned, “I didn’t realise.”  
Keandre shrugged before handing the phone back.  
“What family do you have?” Isaac asked, trying to understand one of their first conversations now.  
Keandre tilted his head before slowly sliding the phone back to himself. He seemed to be extra careful with what he was typing this time. Isaac checked over his shoulder to make sure Nikki was still on the couch before Keandre handed the phone back.  
‘I live in a house with many people I consider family. None of them by blood. But they are family. I worry for them. If this puts them in danger I must face it alone.’  
“You’re very brave,” Isaac observed, “especially with what you’ve already been through.”  
Keandre was giving him a blank stare.  
“But I’m not sure how I can help,” he set the phone down, “I think for what you want, you need to talk to someone involved with the labs. Someone like Dr Morris, or someone like that other clone you met… Damien, was it?”  
“Damien,” Keandre repeated, only getting a vague idea of what he was saying.  
“Yeah. I’d suggest talking to him, but I don’t know how,” Isaac admitted, “your only option might be the doctor himself and it’s not something I’d highly recommend. That’s from personal experience.”


	4. Chapter 4

Mark was pacing the waiting room when the call finally came. Emma jumped to her feet as the doctor indicated for them to step aside from public view. Unsure of himself, Mark kept a little distance from Emma but stayed close to the doctor.  
“Surgery went well,” was the first thing said, “we were able to alleviate the pressure on his lung and in a few days it should return to full capacity.”  
“Thank God,” Emma closed her eyes for a moment.  
“But it was only the start,” he looked between them, “he has sustained multiple major injuries, and a gross amount of blood loss. Not the least worrying of which are his head injuries.”  
“Can you tell what happened?” Mark asked, hugging himself, “we couldn’t see anything there.”  
“Blunt force trauma, multiple sites,” the doctor confirmed, “we can’t rule out brain damage at this stage but he is currently in a coma at a level just above critical.”  
“A coma?” Emma jumped on, “but he’s going to wake up, right?”  
“When he comes out of recovery we’ll move him into the ICU,” the doctor brushed over her question, “when that happens we will call on one of you to come through and see him if you wish. By that time we should have a better understanding of his external injuries as well and we can give you a full analysis.”  
“But he’s going to wake up,” Emma insisted, “when is he going to wake up?”  
“We don’t know,” the doctor admitted, “we don’t know if or when.”  
“ _If_?!” Emma’s voice broke.  
“I’m sorry,” the doctor gave them both a nod before retreating back into the ward.  
“ _If_?!” Emma repeated, feeling like she was losing her mind.  
“He’s gonna wake up,” Mark was nodding to himself, “he has to. We can’t leave here without him.”  
“And what if he doesn’t?!” she demanded, eyes falling on him for the first time since his admission, “what if this is it?! What am I supposed to tell Ellie? What are we supposed to tell your Dad?!”  
“It doesn’t matter cos it’s not going to happen,” Mark insisted, his voice shaking, “we’re not leaving here without him.”  
“You’d better hope you’re right,” Emma fumed, staring him down before turning on her heel and going back to the seating area.  
Mark watched her go before running his fingers through his hair. He waited until he managed to regain his composure before following her.

Alex waited until he was well and truly sure that Damien was asleep before sliding out of the trundle bed. He felt around in the dark for his glasses before finding the slippers they’d provided him with and slipping them onto his feet. He also felt around the floor near the bed for where he’d dropped his pass, knowing he was probably going to need it. Then keeping a careful ear to Damien’s breathing pattern, he headed for the door. He was careful not to let it creak too much as he ducked out into the hall and closed it behind himself. Once in the hallway he breathed a little easier and he began his search for the phone.  
It didn’t take long to find, and the only person he passed in the meantime was a cleaner. The next problem was remembering Mark’s phone number. He managed to dial the first few digits easily, but because he was tired the rest were harder. In the end he stood there with his fingers crossed as he waited for the dial tone. But it never came.  
Looking up in surprise he jumped when he saw a finger on the phone’s hook. He jumped again when he saw who the finger belonged to.  
“Alexander Bell,” Morris was smiling broadly, “how are you settling in?”  
Alex froze with the receiver in his hand. When Morris noticed, he took it from him and placed it back on the hook.  
“We don’t usually allow undocumented outside phone calls,” Morris sighed a little, “can I ask who you were calling? Maybe we can try again in the morning.”  
“Mark,” Alex admitted right away, stepping back a little, “Damien said I could call him.”  
“At this hour?” Morris frowned, “I find that hard to believe. Why would you need to call him so late?”  
“Because something’s wrong,” Alex frowned, “Damien saw it on the tracer charts and he didn’t bother questioning it, but I need to know that they’re okay.”  
“What did Damien see?” Morris tilted his head with interest.  
“The charts,” Alex tried to explain, “that follow their heart rates or whatever. There was this huge spike with Carey and then it went dead. Then Mark’s spiked and it hasn’t gone down. Or it’s like up and down.”  
“When was this?” the doctor’s expression didn’t change.  
“Before dinner last night,” Alex folded his arms.  
“Then whatever happened I’m sure has passed,” Morris tried to reassure him, “Damien didn’t log any tracer malfunction with the system, did he?”  
“No I don’t think there was one,” Alex frowned.  
“Then I’m sure whatever it is can wait until morning. You should go back to bed.”  
Realising he was being dismissed, Alex felt his heart start beating faster.  
“Damien said you weren’t here,” he hoped he wasn’t pressing his luck, “he said you were travelling.”  
“I just got back,” the doctor’s tone changed, “which is why I’m awake at this hour, which I presume you shouldn’t be.”  
Alex paused at that, wondering if he was about to be forced. Morris was already eyeing off his pass.  
“Sorry,” he turned his eyes down.  
“Go back to bed,” Morris turned lenient, “I’ll probably see you tomorrow.”  
Alex nodded before backing into the hall again. After making sure that Morris wasn’t following him, he reluctantly headed back to Damien’s room.

Neither Emma nor Mark had spoken another word to each other since the doctor had gone back into the ward. Mark was sitting behind her when he reappeared over an hour later. Emma was first to her feet when she realised he was beckoning to them, but Mark wasn’t far behind.  
“What is it?” she asked nervously, fidgeting with the strap of her handbag.  
“You won’t be allowed into the room with him, but one of you can see him now,” the doctor kept his voice down.  
Emma looked over her shoulder, worried about another argument.  
“Go,” Mark insisted with a nod.  
Emma bit her lip but followed the doctor through the ward. He took her through the emergency section and toward the ICU where he asked her to stop by a window. When she looked through it she could see Carey laid out on a hospital bed, his legs and right arm all bandaged and tubes going into his throat. He didn’t look any worse than the last time she’d seen him but it still took her breath away for a moment.  
“Your husband’s injuries are quite extensive,” the doctor was showing concern, “and there were a lot more than previously thought…”  
“They wanted to hurt him. Nothing will surprise me,” she assured, convinced she could take anything after seeing his dismembered finger at the warehouse.  
“Right. We’ll start from the bottom…” the doctor looked at his clipboard, “two broken tibias… both clean breaks which should heal properly. His left knee was dislocated which we’ve already set back in place, and once he has stabilised in the ICU we’ll be casting those legs.”  
Emma focused on keeping her breathing even and making sure she wouldn’t overreact.  
“His right fifth digit as you might be aware has been removed, and it wasn’t recovered from the scene. Once again once he has stabilised in the ICU we will take a closer look at what damage has been done and possibly amputate the entire stump. We will talk to you again and get your consent to go ahead with the surgery if needed.”  
“Okay,” Emma kept her voice steady.  
“The closest two fingers to the stump have fractures. You’re aware of the damage to his rib cage – there were three broken in total, but only one penetrated the lung. He has come through that surgery fine and is breathing mostly normal now.”  
“Thank God,” Emma breathed herself.  
“What I need to talk to you about most is your husband’s head injuries.”  
“He’s in a coma,” she stated the obvious.  
“Yes he is. The injury caused an acute subdural hematoma, which is a long way of saying he was bleeding on the brain. We’ve alleviated the pressure on his brain but the underlying injuries have contributed to his current state. With all of this in mind it’s hard for us to tell whether or not your husband will eventually wake up.”  
Emma nodded, expecting him to go on. When he paused instead she looked across at him with tears in her eyes.  
“So you won’t know for sure until he goes either way?” she guessed.  
The doctor gave her a sympathetic look and she finally had to wipe her eyes.  
“I hate to ask Mrs Miller,” he began again, “but what kind of insurance do you have?”  
“None,” she admitted, “but we can pay for anything he needs. Just do it.”  
“I’ll fetch the paperwork if you’d like to stay here,” he offered.  
“Thank you,” she whispered as he disappeared.  
She stayed at the window staring in at him, watching closely as his chest rose and fell. 

Mark was pacing the waiting room once more, unsure if Emma would come out again. When she’d been gone for a good half hour already he decided to sit down. It might have been time to settle in for the long haul.  
Soon after he had, he jumped as his phone vibrated. When he pulled it from his pocket he was confused to see Rachel’s name on the caller ID.  
“Rachel?” he answered, at least glad for the distraction.  
“Hi… are you with Emma?”  
“Sort of,” he wondered if he should tell her anything, “why?”  
“Uh… just wondering if anyone’s coming back to take care of Ellie? It’s pretty late and I mean I’ve had some sleep but I do have to work in the morning so…”  
“Holy shit, I’m so sorry I forgot about her,” Mark rubbed his face, “apparently I’m Uncle of the year.”  
“Where are you guys?”  
“We’re at the hospital. Carey’s in a coma.”  
“What?! How?!”  
“I’ll tell you later,” he insisted, “how long can you take her for?”  
“Uh… you know what? I haven’t taken a sick day in a long time. I’m gonna take a day tomorrow and I can watch her as long as you need then.”  
“I don’t know how long this is going to take,” Mark admitted, “they don’t know if he’s going to wake up.”  
There was a pause on the line when she heard his voice break, and he realised it had been a lot harder to say out loud than it had been in his head.  
“I’m sorry Mark,” she said softly, “anything I can do?”  
“You’re already doing it,” he insisted, “Emma’s in with him now, he’s in the ICU. If I get in there I’ll let her know you’ll take Ellie for tomorrow.”  
“Thanks. Give her my love, and luck.”  
“I’ll try.”  
“Call me if you need to.”  
“Thanks Rachel,” he ended the call.  
He took a deep breath and scratched his head. He’d only spent a couple of days with Ellie but he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten her.  
He wondered if he should talk to the doctors about getting a message to Emma, but figured she wouldn’t want to be disturbed. He’d just have to tell her at first opportunity.  
He hoped she’d give him one.


	5. Chapter 5

It was nearing dawn when Emma emerged from the ICU. She looked tired and drawn, and the moment Mark saw her he shot to his feet.  
“Did something happen?” he instantly worried.  
“No,” she shook her head, “nothing’s happening. Nothing’s going to happen anytime soon.”  
She began fumbling in her handbag.  
“I need to get home to Ellie. Rachel’s been with her all night and _where the fuck are my keys_?!”  
Mark quickly pulled them from his pocket and held them up.  
“I drove here,” he reminded her when she sighed at the sight, “come on, I’ll take you home.”  
“You’re in no state to drive,” she scoffed.  
“And neither are you,” he insisted.  
He paused, looking her over.  
“Fuck it, I’m ordering a cab,” he pulled out his phone.  
“We don’t know what this is going to cost,” Emma shook her head, “we don’t know if we can afford a cab.”  
“We’ll deal with it, I promise,” he insisted before someone answered his call.  
Emma waited while he spoke on the phone, taking the time to pull herself together enough to give him the bad news. Before he could say anything once he was done she took a deep breath.  
“He had bleeding on the brain, and even though they drained it or whatever apparently whatever they did to his head has put him in this coma and they don’t know if he’s going to wake up,” she rattled off, “they might have to amputate what’s left of his finger but they think that once they put his legs in casts they should heal okay because they were clean breaks. Oh and… three broken ribs and two other fractured fingers.”  
She let the rest of her breath go.  
“Whatever you’ve got going on with Russo, it better be worth this.”  
“It’s not,” Mark shook his head, “I’m way out of my league and I don’t know what I'm… It doesn’t matter. You need to get home to Ellie. Rachel called earlier and said she’s taking the day off so she can watch her if you want to come straight back here.”  
“She called you?” Emma frowned.  
“I think she tried you first and couldn’t get through,” he shrugged.  
Emma checked her phone, seeing that he was right.  
“Come on,” he indicated for her to follow him outside, “cab will be here any second. I’ll see you off.”  
“You’re not coming?” she checked.  
“No. I’ll stay a while.”  
“You know they won’t let you in with him, right?”  
“I don’t care.”  
They stood in silence until the cab pulled up and he stepped down to open the door for her. She stopped him before he could close it.  
“If anything happens-“  
“You’ll be the first person I call,” he assured.  
She paused, but nodded. He closed the door on her and the cab pulled away. He waited until they made it to the cross street before turning to go back inside, worried already that something might have changed while they’d been gone.  
Once back he had to wait for someone to come through the ward door so that he could duck through. Knowing his brother was in the ICU he simply followed the signs until he found it. Then he started checking the windows.  
He wasn’t sure if it was actually Carey when he found him, he was so covered in bandages including some over his head. But when he saw the splints on his legs he was sure.  
His hands went to his head where he ran his fingers through his hair before leaning his forehead against the glass.  
“Come on Care,” he whispered to himself, “you gotta pull through. I can’t do this without you.”

“You want what?” Taylor frowned, in the midst of the usual breakfast rush.  
“Not for me, for Kea,” Isaac corrected, doing the same thing, “he wants to contact the labs so I was wondering if you still had that number we could maybe call instead of just showing up. Because if he shows up you know one of us will have to take him there and I don’t know about you but-“  
“Yeah that’s not gonna happen,” Taylor handed River a few empty plates, “but the number should still be in my phone, or in Zac’s. I don’t remember which phone we used.”  
“Can you check or should I try him first?”  
“Can it wait until we get to work?” Taylor suggested.  
“Ah… sure? I guess.”  
“It’s not like he’s going anywhere anytime soon. You could do it tonight then.”  
“I’m not sure having Keandre talk to him directly would be such a good idea, I mean I’m having enough trouble and we’re already both learning more every day.”  
“Morris knows French,” Taylor suddenly remembered, making him stop in his tracks, “I heard him talking French to him on the plane I think.”  
“Well that solves one problem,” Isaac reasoned, “but you really think letting Morris tell him anything he wants is a good idea?”  
“This is up to Keandre, not us,” Taylor shrugged, “if he wants to go in we can’t stop him.”  
“But we should warn him about the doctor’s penchant to lie,” Isaac insisted.  
“Do whatever you want, I don’t see it changing anything,” Taylor gave up, concentrating more on what he was doing.  
“Fine. See you at work.”  
Taylor winced as Isaac hung up but threw the phone onto the counter as he continued to get everyone organised.

Mark barely moved for at least three hours. He hoped Emma was asleep, but he felt nowhere near it himself. Nothing with Carey had changed but they’d examined his hand further and decided on the amputation surgery which had been scheduled for the morning. They told him it should be quick and easy compared to what they’d already had to do.  
One of the nurses had brought him a chair once she’d been up and down the corridor multiple times during her shift and noticed he hadn’t moved from the window. He thanked her but he hadn’t used it. It was a little too short for him to still be able to see everything in the room. He was watching his brother, he was watching the monitors, and he was carefully watching whoever entered the room.  
He’d been thinking a lot. About what might happen if Carey didn’t wake up, and about what might happen if he did. If he did wake up he knew he still wouldn’t be going anywhere for a long time. His legs alone were going to take a month and a half to heal and then he’d need to get used to walking again. That was only if his brother didn’t have brain damage to contend with.  
He closed his eyes as he tried not to let it overwhelm him. It was nothing he could change. They just had to wait, even if the waiting made them sick.  
Or did they?  
Mark hadn’t spent much time at the labs himself but he’d been given hints at their reach. He knew it was part of a widely led government operation that fell across a great part of the States. Morris wasn’t the be all and end all, he was just the part they personally had to contend with. Considering the amount of secrecy surrounding the projects he was sure there was a lot more going on than they would ever be privy to.  
Maybe they had some high tech health facilities somewhere. Maybe they could do more for Carey than the LA doctors could.  
He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and searched through his contacts. He wasn’t even sure if he had the number or not. He was surprised when he found it and momentarily wondered if either Carey or Emma had put it in there.  
“Hello?” a confused voice answered.  
“Is that Taylor Hanson?” Mark had to clear his throat.  
“Who’s this?”  
“It’s Mark. Carey’s brother.”  
“Oh. Okay, ah… how did it go with the cops? I didn’t hear back.”  
Mark paused, wondering what he was talking about.  
“Oh _that_ ,” he realised, “no that was cool. Um. Thank you for that. But uh… Care’s in hospital.”  
“What? What happened?” Taylor frowned, stopping as he’d been about to pack his camera into his satchel.  
“He got beaten real bad, and he’s in a coma,” Mark scratched his head, “they don’t know if he’s gonna wake up. But he’s here at the hospital in LA and I was thinking that maybe…”  
“Maybe what?” Taylor coaxed.  
“Maybe someone Morris works with might be better at handling this kind of thing.”  
Taylor paused again, realising where he was going.  
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked.  
“No,” Mark admitted, “but we don’t know their tech. Maybe they can pull him out of this easier than these people. But if we learnt anything from Colin we know they’ll probably take him eventually anyway.”  
“Colin was different,” Taylor shook his head, “they wanted his body.”  
“Right, you don’t know…” Mark remembered aloud.  
“Know what?” Taylor’s frown returned.  
“Colin’s alive. I got a call from Alex and he said he saw him. He’s in a coma too.”  
“He can’t be alive,” Taylor scoffed, “you were there, you saw it.”  
“And I know head wounds bleed like a bitch,” Mark glanced over his shoulder as someone walked past, “maybe we didn’t see what we thought we saw.”  
“You’re serious,” Taylor realised.  
“Why the fuck would I joke about that?” Mark scowled.  
“I don’t know! How was I supposed to believe that straight up?!”  
“I don’t know. I don’t care,” Mark rolled his eyes, “I was calling to see if you still had Morris’ number.”  
“You too,” Taylor muttered to himself.  
“What?”  
“Nothing, nothing. Ah, I’ll look it up and text it in an hour or so. Is this number okay?”  
“It’s the only one I’ve got,” Mark’s eyes went back to his brother.  
“Okay great. And ah, give our love to Emma. Let us know if she needs anything.”  
“I will, thanks,” Mark ended the call.  
He could barely believe that he’d had to turn to Taylor Hanson of all people, especially twice in less than a day. 

“Carey’s in hospital,” Taylor quickly told Natalie when he found her, “he’s in a coma, they don’t know if he’ll wake up.”  
“Oh my God,” she frowned, “is Emma okay? Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine,” he looked confused, “and I don’t know. Mark called wanting the number for Morris.”  
“Was it because of him?”  
“I didn’t ask,” Taylor admitted, scratching his chin, “he sounded pretty strung out. I didn’t want to keep him.”  
Natalie nodded at that.  
“I’ll call Emma later and check on her,” she assured.  
“Thanks, I’ll see you tonight.”  
He gave her a quick kiss goodbye before going back to collect his things.  
He made it to the studio in good time. On the drive there he couldn’t wait any longer and had gone through his call logs to see if he had the doctor’s number in there. But he didn’t. Knowing it was up to Zac now he hoped he’d play along without much of a fuss.  
He pulled up outside 3CG just as Isaac was walking inside, and he paused to hold the door for him.  
“You’ll never guess who just called me,” Taylor said when he caught up.  
“I…” Isaac paused, having been about to give it a go, “no, I got nothing.”  
“Mark,” Taylor’s brow rose as he followed his brother inside, “he wanted the number for Morris too.”  
“Why? And do you have it?”  
“No, Zac must have it,” Taylor realised he wasn’t there yet as he set his bag on one of the desks in the office, “but Carey’s in a coma.”  
“Ooh,” Isaac winced, “that’s not good. Do you know what happened?”  
“No, not yet. But I’m sure we’ll find out,” Taylor took his jacket off prompting Isaac to do the same, “they don’t know if he’s going to wake up.”  
“That doesn’t sound good.”  
“No it does not.”


	6. Chapter 6

Mark was just texting Emma to tell her they were starting surgery on Carey’s hand when Taylor’s text came through. He finished Emma’s message before immediately calling the number. He didn’t want to give himself time to back out of it.  
“Yes?”  
“Is that Dr Morris?” he asked.  
“It is. Who am I speaking to?”  
“Mark. Mark Miller,” his eyes went back to Carey to keep himself focused.  
“Mark Miller,” Morris repeated, sounding amused, “to whatever do I owe the pleasure?”  
“It’s Carey,” Mark tried to ignore his tone, “he’s in the hospital.”  
“Is he now?”  
“Yeah,” Mark scratched his face awkwardly, “I want to know if you can do anything for him.”  
“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll let you know.”  
Mark sighed to himself, already having second thoughts.  
“He’s in a coma,” he began, “he had bleeding on the brain from some head injuries and they drained it or whatever but he hasn’t woken up. He had a punctured lung they did surgery on, and he’s got a couple of broken legs and a missing finger. They’re working on the finger now but we’re more worried about the possibly-not-waking-up part.”  
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mark. What would you like us to do?”  
“I don’t know! Don’t you guys have some kind of super hospital at your disposal that can get him out of this?!”  
“We don’t have a ‘super hospital’ per se,” Morris was lenient, knowing Mark was stressed, “but we can certainly transfer him here to Dallas where we can keep a careful and more direct eye on his progress. Has he stabilised yet?”  
“He’s in the ICU,” Mark admitted, already thinking it over.  
“Then he can’t be moved yet. Tell me what hospital you’re in and I’ll give them a call.”

By the time Emma returned to the hospital, Mark had given in and taken up the chair. She texted him to let him know she was there so he took one final look at his brother before forcing himself to leave the ward.  
When he saw Emma speaking with a couple of police officers just outside the door, he froze. The moment she made awkward eye contact with him the officers spotted him.  
“Mark Miller, twice in two days…” the first made his way over with his hands on his hips.  
“Officer Mike,” he nodded, ignoring the advance and making his way to Emma’s side instead, “you can go in now, nothing’s changed. Surgery on his hand went fine.”  
“We aren’t done speaking with the lady yet,” the other officer moved to block her path.  
“Yes you are,” Mark stared him down, “she’s got nothing to say to you.”  
“You don’t get to decide that,” Mike came up behind him, “we got plenty of questions for you and your new sister about why your brother’s in here to begin with.”  
“And we ain’t telling you nothing,” Mark locked eyes with him.  
“Then maybe we gotta assume that you had something to do with it. How does six months in Van Nuys sound? Life if he dies.”  
“They could always go the death penalty,” Mike’s partner mused.  
“We didn’t do this,” Mark said between his teeth.  
“Prove it,” Mike took a step closer, “or do you still have nothing to say to us?”  
Well aware that the tension was escalating and that Emma was already on the verge of tears, Mark had to force himself to stay calm. He couldn’t take the bait.  
“If you want to take me in again, fine,” he insisted, “but leave her out of this. She needs to see him.”  
“You don’t get to decide that either,” the shorter officer scorned.  
“Look, I got an alibi, and so does she,” Mark turned on him instead, “you morons _gave_ us an alibi – we were at the station when this happened to him. So unless you guys are _really fucking bored_ you have no reason to even be here.”  
“We’re here because some poor asshole nearly died yesterday and we need to find out who’s responsible,” Mike corrected.  
“Since when do you consider Carey a poor-anything?” Mark scowled.  
“Mark,” Emma spoke up, just hoping it wouldn’t get too heated, “maybe you should say something.”  
“No,” he scorned, “I’m not letting this happen again.”  
“So you do know who did it,” the second officer pulled out a notepad and pen.  
“I already said I’m not telling you anything!”  
“Well that right there is obstruction of justice,” Mike was obviously amused, “should we keep going?”  
“Mark please,” Emma was begging, at this point just not wanting him to get in a fight.  
“What do you want from me?” he folded his arms, resisting the urge to punch Mike in the face.  
“You can go,” the second officer stood aside to let her through, “but we might call on you later.”  
She locked eyes with Mark for a moment before hurriedly entering the ward. Mark watched her go before starting to tap his fingers on his arm.  
“Give us the name of the person who attacked your brother,” Mike’s voice lowered as he turned more serious, “we only want to help, son.”  
“You’re not going to believe me if I tell you,” Mark shook his head.  
“Try us,” the second officer insisted, “maybe we can help.”  
Mark looked to the ceiling incredulously. He knew there was no way they could actually help. But Carey had to be the focus right now, and if he ended up in prison… maybe Morris would bail him out. Eventually.  
“D’Angelo Russo,” he came out with.  
Mike immediately broke into a laugh, making Mark scowl.  
“Russo?” the other’s eyebrows rose, “the mobster?”  
“Yeah,” Mark took a step back, “one and the same.”  
“You expect us to believe that?” Mike was still laughing, “what would a guy like Russo want with a punk like you?”  
“Why don’t you ask Colin Reis?” Mark looked him in the eye.  
Mike began to sober at that.  
“Who?” the other officer asked, not having been there the day before.  
“You’re serious,” Mike’s face twisted with scorn.  
“I am serious,” Mark confirmed.  
“Son, what the Hell kind of giant bull crap have you managed to step into?”  
“I can’t say,” he shook his head, “I can’t say, or what happened to Carey is gonna happen to someone else.”  
Both officers turned sombre at that. They both knew Russo’s reach and Mark could tell instantly that they knew they wouldn’t be immune just because they wore a badge.  
“Is he in LA?” Mike asked.  
“He was yesterday,” Mark checked over his shoulder as if to make sure Emma was out of sight, “I don’t know if he is now.”  
“Do you have a way of finding out?”  
Mark shook his head again and shrugged.  
“I just gotta answer when he calls. I don’t know what he wants from me yet.”  
“So you don’t know why Carey’s in there?” the second officer looked worried.  
“That was for something else. But that’s over. I don’t know what he wants from me _now_.”  
“What should we do?” the officer looked to Mike.  
Mike was sizing Mark up, not looking entirely convinced that he was telling the truth but at the same time not wanting to question it.  
“If you see him again, you call us,” Mike insisted.  
“I can’t do that,” Mark said right away, “I’m not going to risk Emma or their daughter just to be a CI.”  
Mike sighed in frustration.  
“We’ll be in touch,” he pointed a finger at Mark’s face, making him frown, “but for now, we’re going to get the paramedics who found your brother to sign off on saying it was an accident. That he fell off the roof of wherever they found him.”  
Mark immediately began to breathe easier.  
“Thank you,” he said softly.  
“And this ain’t over,” Mike insisted before turning to walk away.  
Mark looked to the other officer, but he just gave him a nod and followed. Mark waited until they’d left the hospital altogether before going to take a seat in the waiting room.  
He didn’t know what to do.

“Looks like you get your wish,” Damien didn’t look happy as he returned to the room at the end of his work day.  
“What wish?” Alex was confused.  
“I was told today that they’re bringing Carey here,” Damien said as he took off his lab coat to hang up behind the door.  
“…Why?” Alex's confusion turned to worry.  
“Apparently he’s in a hospital somewhere in LA in a coma.”  
“What?” Alex shot to his feet, “what happened?!”  
“I don’t know,” Damien grumbled, heading for his laptop and taking a seat.  
“Why is he in a coma? What happened yesterday? Why would they bring him here?!”  
“I don’t know!” Damien’s voice rose with his annoyance, “I guess we’ll find out when he gets here.”  
Alex took a moment to work out that Damien wasn’t going to speak again, before heading for the door.  
“Where are you going?” Damien demanded with a frown.  
“Out,” Alex scowled back, closing the door behind himself.  
He shook off the annoyance as he headed down the corridor, aiming for the holding cells. He was glad to see the usual night guard had already taken up his post outside the door.  
“I need to see Jesse,” he announced, making sure to show off his pass even though the guard well and truly knew his face by now.  
“Do they know you’re here?” he raised a brow as he turned to unlock the door.  
“I’m sure Damien’s watching the security feeds as we speak,” Alex hugged himself.  
Jesse pulled himself up from where he’d laid himself down ready to sleep when he heard the movement. When he saw Alex walk in he pulled himself to his feet.  
“What’s wrong?” he frowned as Alex came to his door.  
“Carey’s in a coma,” he blurted right away.  
“What? How?” Jesse frowned.  
“I don’t know,” Alex shrugged, “but Damien said they’re bringing him here.”  
Jesse’s eyes went to the door to make sure he hadn’t been followed.  
“Why?” he asked.  
“I don’t know. But they brought Colin here, so…”  
Jesse paused to let it sink in.  
“They want to study him,” he concluded.  
Alex shrugged again, still trying to process it himself.  
“Maybe they want to compare comas. We don’t know how Carey fell into his, do we?”  
“I don’t know anything, just that he’s in a coma and coming here. I don’t even know when! Damien wasn’t happy so I just walked out and came here to tell you.”  
“Thanks,” Jesse’s voice softened, recognising his distress, “thanks for letting me know.”  
“Maybe they’ll bring Mark in too,” Alex went on, “neither of the twins have gone through the testing the Hansons did. Or that you have.”  
“Have you?” Jesse frowned, seeing a chance to change the subject slightly.  
“Sort of,” Alex admitted, “I’ve been for scans and stuff but I haven’t done the physicals I saw on the data sheets on Damien’s computer. I don’t even know what they involve.”  
“It’s just like going to the gym,” Jesse shrugged, “I did them last time I was here. They just want to know what you can lift and how long you can run, things like that.”  
Alex was pulling a face as he spoke.  
“It’s not that bad,” Jesse assured, “I’m surprised they haven’t asked you yet.”  
“Maybe because I’d be terrible at it,” Alex scratched at his arm.  
“Mr Bell,” the guard called his attention, “it’s nearly time for lights out.”  
“So you don’t know when he’s coming?” Jesse confirmed.  
“No, but Morris is back,” Alex remembered he hadn’t told him, “maybe he’ll go get him.”  
Jesse just nodded when he heard that. He hadn’t seen Morris since first returning to Dallas.  
“Thanks for letting me know,” he lowered his eyes.  
“Mr Bell…?”  
“Goodnight Jesse,” he said softly before quickly heading for the door.  
“Goodnight!” he called after him.  
Jesse watched as the guard double checked that his cell was secure before following him out and locking the main door. Jesse looked up to the security camera before heading back to his bed in time for the lights to go out.


	7. Chapter 7

“Keandre!” Isaac was a little taken aback to turn the corner and find him in the kitchen eating an apple.  
“Isaac!” he returned after swallowing, barely managing to keep a straight face.  
“Ah… I have news,” Isaac set his satchel on the counter, “I got the number for you.”  
“Okay,” Keandre was watching him without moving.  
“But it turns out there’s some other clone stuff going down right now so… now might not be the time to call.”  
“Clone stuff,” Keandre repeated before taking another bite.  
“Yeah…” Isaac leant against the counter, unsure if he was going to understand, “Carey… Carey Miller? He’s been hurt. He’s in a coma.”  
Keandre shrugged, and Isaac wasn’t entirely sure if it was because he didn’t understand or because he didn’t care.  
Just in case, he pulled out his phone. As Keandre waited patiently he quickly typed out a summary of what he’d managed to get from Taylor. When he handed it over he remained confused when Keandre’s expression didn’t change.  
“I understand,” he assured, handing it back.  
“Okay then. So… you’re okay to wait?” Isaac checked.  
Keandre nodded with a shrug.  
“Right. Well… I’m gonna take a shower and I’ll be right back,” Isaac frowned, grabbing his bag again to take to his room.  
Keandre watched him leave before looking toward the kitchen clock.

“Hey,” Mark darted over to the door as Emma emerged, “do you need food or anything? Is there anything I can get you?”  
Emma just shook her head tiredly.  
“No, I’m going to go home for the night,” she admitted, “have you eaten?”  
“I grabbed a quick lunch,” he lied smoothly, “did you want to take the car?”  
“No, Rachel’s going to pick me up. She should be here any second.”  
“Okay,” Mark relented, folding his arms.  
They stood in silence for a moment as Emma played with her phone. He waited patiently to see if she would finish, unsure of the right time to interrupt. In the end he couldn’t contain himself.  
“I need to tell you something,” he could feel himself paling as he spoke, “and I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”  
“About Russo?” Emma didn’t look up from her phone.  
“No. About the scientists.”  
Emma paused, her finger freezing mid-type.  
“What about them?” she kept her eyes down.  
“They’re coming for him,” Mark didn’t see an easy way to break it, “they know he’s here and they’ll probably be here in a day or so.”  
“What do you mean ‘coming for him’?” she demanded, “what are they going to do?”  
“I think they’re going to take him back to Dallas.”  
She finally looked up, but there was fire in her eyes.  
“How do you know?” her voice lowered.  
Mark’s grip on his arms grew a little tighter.  
“Because I called them,” he admitted.  
Emma slapped him. Mark didn’t move, not blaming her if she wanted to do it again.  
“How dare you,” she said between her teeth, “you _know_ how scared of them he is! You know the last thing he would want is to end up in one of their cells!”  
“It was all I could think of,” Mark said under his breath.  
“All you could think of?! You’re implying you actually _thought_ about it?!”  
“We don’t know what they have,” he shrugged as he kept his eyes away from her, “I figured they might find a way to bring him out of it.”  
“And what if he’s brain damaged? What then?” she demanded, “what if they bring him out of it before he’s had a chance to heal? Did you think about that?!”  
“I’d hope they knew what they were doing,” he felt his eyes getting wet, “like they have with Colin.”  
“What?” Emma was caught by surprise.  
“Colin. He’s in Dallas. He’s alive,” Mark admitted, “but he’s in a coma too.”  
“How?” she was suddenly lost for words.  
“I don’t know,” Mark shrugged, “but I figured maybe if they could save him, they could save Care.”  
Emma hesitated at that, suddenly getting where he was coming from.  
“I’m sorry,” he was starting to lose his voice, “I know I should have talked to you but I knew you wouldn’t agree with it and I-“  
“Your phone,” she cut him off, looking down.  
“Huh?”  
“Your phone. It’s ringing.”  
Mark’s hand flew to his pocket, realising she was right. Getting a dreaded feeling in his gut he wasn’t surprised when he saw the caller ID.  
“It’s Russo,” he rubbed his face worriedly.  
“Then you’d better answer it,” she insisted.  
“Fuck,” he cussed under his breath before accepting the call and standing aside, “this is Miller.”  
“Glad you answered. We have a job for you.”  
“You want me to work a job while my brother’s still in hospital?” he frowned incredulously.  
“Be grateful he’s the only one.”  
Mark grit his teeth at that, purposely keeping his eyes away from Emma. It wasn’t Russo he was talking to but he was pretty sure it was John.  
“What do you want?” he asked regretfully.  
“We need you back in Chicago. There’s a meeting on Thursday so we want you on a plane tomorrow.”  
“Are you serious?”  
“Are you really going to ask me that?”  
Mark rubbed his face again before giving Emma an awkward glance.  
“Can’t you give me until Wednesday?” he pleaded.  
“No. You need to be briefed. Will you need some extra incentive?”  
“No, no. God, no,” Mark insisted, “where do I have to go?”  
“We’ll meet you at the apartment where you’ll stay as long as we want you to.”  
“I can’t afford to keep that apartment, it’s out of my price range,” Mark shook his head, “I was going to sell the damn thing.”  
“Russo will take care of it. Just get here tomorrow. Goodbye Mark. Give your brother my regards.”  
“But when-“  
Mark cut himself off when he realised the call had ended and he dropped the phone to his side.  
“What does he want?” Emma asked worriedly, having trouble reading him.  
“They want me back in Chicago tomorrow,” Mark admitted, beginning to feel like he was on the verge of a breakdown.  
“So… you’re going to Chicago, Care’s going to Dallas…” Emma realised, “what am I supposed to do?”  
“You can’t go with Carey,” Mark insisted, pulling himself together at the thought of her trying, “the labs will take Ellie. You can’t let them have her.”  
“I won’t let anyone have her,” Emma frowned at the implication that she might, “but why should I stay here?”  
Mark just paused, confused at her wording.  
“Are you staying here tonight?” she asked him.  
“Of course.”  
“I’m going to go and get some sleep and make some milk for Ellie,” she carefully put a finger against his chest, “and I’ll be back in the morning to take over shifts. If you recognise _anyone_ that walks through that door, you call me.”  
“Okay,” Mark agreed.  
“I’m not letting him go without talking to them myself,” she insisted, “and Ellie can stay home with Rachel.”  
“Okay,” he agreed again, keeping his eyes down submissively.  
Emma paused as if to make her point before taking her finger away as her phone vibrated.  
“That’ll be Rachel. I’ll see you in the morning.”  
“Goodnight,” he quickly said after her as she turned to leave.  
He watched her go before sighing and running his hands through his hair again. It was going to be a long night.  
He figured he might as well book his flight in the meantime.

No one from the labs turned up before Emma returned the next morning, and Mark knew it was finally time to leave the hospital. He had to go back to the house to grab his things and make it to the airport before midday. He opted to drive Emma’s car back to the house for her, finding Rachel babysitting when he made it there. There wasn’t time for more than a few pleasantries before he quickly had a shower and gathered what he thought he might need – including a lot of things of Colin’s that he’d brought with him. Getting the stark reminder the night before that he would once again have to walk in Colin’s shoes, it reminded him that he’d never organised for the Camaro to be towed. While he’d called a collection yard close to midnight, it wasn’t until he was about to walk out the door that he got a text saying the car had been retrieved. He made a mental note to ask someone to pick it up in a few days if he wasn’t back by then.  
The flight was nerve wracking. He couldn’t sleep like he’d planned to. Instead he spent the whole four hours fretting about what Russo might want. He never did find out if Tony had gotten out of jail or not. From what had happened to Carey, he was guessing that maybe he hadn’t.  
The cab ride from the airport wasn’t as bad, but he was looking forward to seeing Ronaldo’s face again. As stupid as it seemed. He was the closest thing he’d had to a friend his whole time in Chicago and now he actually knew his real name.  
He adjusted Colin’s shirt as they pulled up out front, just in case anyone was already watching, and slid on a pair of his gold-rimmed sunglasses. By the time he got out of the cab the driver already had his bags on the sidewalk. After a quick nod goodbye he made his way inside.  
He paused when he caught sight of the doorman. It wasn’t Ronaldo.  
“Good evening,” the taller slim redhead turned as he approached, “can I help you?”  
“No,” Mark was a little put off, but approached the elevator all the same, “just coming home.”  
“Your name, Sir?”  
“Reis, Colin Reis,” he kept his groan internal.  
“Mr Reis, you’ve been gone a long time,” the doorman observed as he pressed the button.  
“Not long enough,” Mark muttered under his breath, “what happened to Ronaldo?”  
“Ronaldo? He quit some time ago. I heard he won the lottery.”  
Mark smirked to himself at that as the doors opened.  
“Floor?”  
“Second,” he replied, stepping inside, “I need to go to the lockers first.”  
“Very well,” he pressed said button, “have a good night Mr Reis.”  
“You too.”  
The doors closed and he sighed. He knew it was too early to judge the new guy, but he already missed Ronaldo.  
He made it to the lockers, found Colin’s room key in the bag still there, and used it to head up to the apartment. The first thing he noticed when he stepped out of the elevator was the chemical smell. The second was the lack of blood stains on the tiles. The cleaners had done a good job.  
Trying not to dwell on the misery of being back so soon, he dumped the keys into the bowl and took his suitcases down toward the bedrooms. Once he’d unpacked he texted Emma to check in before deciding to watch some television. He needed something to numb his brain.  
He made a detour to the kitchen to see what alcohol he’d left behind. When he found that it wasn’t much, he grabbed a bottle from the wine cellar on his way back to the living area. He figured if he could get drunk he might actually sleep for the first time in days.


	8. Chapter 8

The night that Mark left LA Carey had been transferred from the ICU into a specialist ward. It was the first time Emma had been able to have physical contact with her husband since the attack and when she was finally left alone with him she didn’t know what to do first. She ended up giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead before taking hold of his left hand as she took a seat beside the bed. She stayed like that by his side for as long as she was able to.  
She stopped paying attention to the time, but when her phone rang she could have sworn it was the early hours of the morning. It turned out it was only mid-afternoon but a day later.  
“Hello?” she cleared her throat.  
“Hi… Emma? It’s Natalie. Natalie Hanson.”  
“Oh,” she hadn’t recognised her voice, “sorry. Hey Natalie.”  
“Is this a bad time?”  
“No, not really. I’m at the hospital.”  
“I am so sorry to hear. I couldn’t believe it when I heard. We’d barely seen you a few days before…”  
“I know,” Emma rubbed her eyes tiredly.  
“How’s Ellie? Is she doing okay?”  
“She’s fine, I have a friend watching her,” Emma assured, “but she took time off work to do it so I don’t know for how much longer. Which might not be a problem because Mark called Morris the other day…”  
“Wait, Morris? The scientist Morris?”  
“Yeah. He told them what happened and they’re coming to take Carey to Dallas,” she had trouble keeping her voice steady, “I don’t know when.”  
“I’m so sorry. Why did Mark do that?”  
“He thought he was helping. He thinks they might be able to wake him up.”  
“I see. Well if you do go to Dallas I don’t mind watching Ellie for you. I know it’s a bit of a drive, but-”  
“Really?” Emma frowned, not expecting the offer.  
“Sure. One more won’t hurt and I feel like Ellie and I hit it off. I mean you’ll want to meet our nanny first but that shouldn’t be too hard to work out.”  
“I’ll think about it, thank you,” Emma couldn’t contain her surprise, “Mark told me not to go to Dallas because he was worried they’d take Ellie from me, but if you take her…”  
“I know we don’t have the best track record right now,” Natalie turned solemn, “but we’ve added a lot of security since the guys were taken to Russia. I’m sure we can keep her safe.”  
Emma’s eyes went to what she could see of Carey’s face. She wondered what he’d think of it. She knew he wasn’t a fan of Taylor’s, but he hadn’t said anything about Natalie. Plus they had plenty of kids – it wasn’t as if she didn’t know what she was doing.  
“I’m going to talk to them when they come for him,” she began thoughtfully, “can I let you know what I decide once they’ve been?”  
“Sure. Call me anytime.”

Mark groaned as he heard his phone vibrating, hearing it rattle across the tiled floor. It wasn’t until he managed to open his eyes that he realised he was on the floor with it.  
He reached over to grab it before it could stop ringing. When he saw Russo’s name he rolled over onto his back and answered it.  
“Yeah?” his voice croaked as he covered his eyes.  
“Mr Miller. Sleeping in?”  
“What do you want?” he grumbled.  
“Look up.”  
Mark frowned before moving his hand. At the sight of John towering over him he nearly jumped out of his skin. He jumped to a sit and backed off until he hit the television stand.  
“What the _fuck_?!” he scowled, “what are you doing here?!”  
John smirked to himself as he ended the call. Mark knew his phone had gone flying and didn’t bother to check where it had ended up.  
“Just wanted to make sure you got here safely,” John wasn’t moving, “we’ll be briefing you tonight on what we want for tomorrow.”  
Now that Mark had had a chance to recover, he rubbed his face as he began to feel his hangover. He wasn’t sure what time he’d fallen asleep, but he wasn’t sure what time it was now.  
“When?” he chose to ask.  
“Russo will be here at eight.”  
Mark groaned to himself, leaning his head back against the stand.  
“Don’t worry. This will be a walk in the park compared to last time,” John turned to leave.  
“Did he get out?” Mark frowned after him, making him pause, “did Tony get out? From what I did?”  
“Yes,” John turned to look over his shoulder, “but you missed his first parole meeting. Now he’s under tight surveillance and almost useless to us.”  
“Shit,” Mark cussed under his breath.  
“I’m sure he’ll be by to see you,” John added before leaving the room.  
Mark listened to his footsteps heading for the elevator and waited until he was sure he was gone before starting to look for his phone. He found it behind the sofa. Then he had to find the television remote so he could turn it off.  
That done, he checked the time. It was almost 4pm.  
Grumbling to himself he decided to head for the shower.

“Hey… Tay?”  
“Hmm?” he wasn’t paying attention at all as he studied the pies in the oven.  
“I spoke to Emma earlier today.”  
“Emma who?”  
“Emma Miller,” Natalie added scorn to her voice.  
That made him look up.  
“Right. How is she?” he frowned.  
“Not great, but that’s to be expected. She says they’re taking Carey to Dallas.”  
“They?” he stood up straight, “’they’ as in Morris?”  
“Yes,” she nodded, looking him in the eye.  
“Well I guess that’s what Mark wanted,” he shrugged, “I hope they can help him. I really do.”  
“So do I. But I told Emma that if she wanted to go to Dallas with him that we’d take Ellie for her.”  
Taylor paused for a moment, expressionless, before focusing on the pies again.  
“…Really.”  
“Yes, really,” Natalie was unsure of his reaction, “I hope you don’t mind.”  
Taylor didn’t respond, working to get the pies out. As he started setting them out on the counter Natalie made her way around to his side.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask first,” she lowered her voice, “but I thought I should offer. We’re not that far from Dallas considering, and we can keep her safe if Emma wants to go inside the labs.”  
“Keep her safe,” Taylor smirked, “we couldn’t even keep Penny and Ezra safe in an entirely different country where they had no jurisdiction.”  
“Are you blaming me for that?” Natalie frowned.  
“What? Of course not!” he scorned, “I just don’t think that the Millers’ problems should be our problems. We barely know them!”  
“Come on,” Natalie scoffed, “you’re trying to tell me that Carey means nothing to you? That that little girl means nothing to you?”  
“He has my face, that’s all,” Taylor insisted, looking her in the eye again, “he’s not my brother. I already _have_ brothers. These… clones? They’re completely different. I don’t have that connection with them.”  
“So you’re saying you feel nothing for Carey,” Natalie tried to understand, even if she was getting annoyed, “like you don’t even feel sorry for him.”  
“His brother tried to kill me! And despite that, I shouldn’t have to!” Taylor’s brow rose, “this was my parents’ fuck up, and they aren’t even here to face the music. Why should I have to deal with this alone?”  
“You’re not alone,” Natalie frowned, “you’ve got Ike and Zac, and you’ve got _them_.”  
“Sure,” Taylor rolled his eyes, “and the only one I ever bonded with turned out to be a militant serial killer who’s now locked up somewhere.”  
Natalie watched him for a moment and he just started to serve up.  
“Go get the kids,” he insisted.  
“Not until I get your okay that Ellie can come here,” she gave him the minor ultimatum.  
“You have it. Just go get them.”  
“Fine.”  
Taylor listened to her footsteps walking away before checking over his shoulder that she was gone. With a grunt he rubbed his face and began to plate up.

It was soon after dark when Emma heard footsteps in the corridor and looked up when they stopped at Carey’s room. She could see shadows under the door and her chest immediately tightened. She automatically knew that this was it. They were here for him.  
There came a soft knock on the door and she squeezed Carey’s hand as it opened right away.  
“Mrs Miller?” the night nurse poked her head in, “these men are here-“  
“To take him, I know,” Emma didn’t move, struggling to contain her emotions, “let them in.”  
The nurse nodded before stepping aside. Two men in lab coats walked in. She didn’t recognise either of them.  
“You’re from the labs?” her brow rose before they could say anything.  
“Yes,” the first – tall and blond – responded, “sorry Mrs Miller, but we need to be going.”  
“Is one of you Morris?” she looked between them as the second made his way to Carey’s bedside.  
“No,” the first responded again, “we’re just here to collect your husband. He’ll be in the hands of specialists once he hits the ground in Dallas.”  
“You’re flying him?” Emma was suddenly hoping Carey couldn’t hear them talking, “what if something goes wrong?”  
“We’ve done this many times before,” the second – a shorter man with brown hair – reassured her, “he’s going to be fine.”  
“When can I see him?” she asked, watching as they adjusted the bedframe so they could wheel it out, “when can I come see him? I’ll make my own way there.”  
“You’ll have to talk to Morris about that,” the blond was apologetic, “but I’m sure it can be arranged once you do.”  
Emma just nodded, knowing they were ready to leave. She stood from her seat and leant over Carey, planting a short kiss on his forehead and then a longer, lingering one on his scarred lips.  
“Be good,” she whispered to him, “behave yourself. You’ll be fine. I’ll see you soon, I promise.”  
With that she stepped back as they began to disconnect the monitors. The flat line on the heart monitor scared her for a moment even though she knew it had been taken off. She fumbled with her handbag as they detached the brakes and began to wheel the bed out. She followed closely behind.  
He was taken out a back door to a waiting white van. Carey had told her about the white vans, but Emma had never seen them herself. It didn’t look nearly as scary as she’d imagined it would. But when Carey was loaded precariously into the back, still on the gurney, she felt herself starting to choke up.  
“Take care Mrs Miller,” the blond gave her a smile and a nod, distracting her as the van doors closed.  
“Take care of him,” she countered, sure the look on her face gave away her worry.  
The two men shared a glance before one went to get in the side door and the other got into the driver’s seat. The van started and quickly began to pull away. Emma stood on the dock to watch until it was out of sight before reaching into her bag to find her cell phone.  
She quickly found Natalie’s number and dialled. The call rang through before Natalie’s voicemail picked up. Emma realised she hadn’t bothered to check the time first.  
“Natalie it’s Emma,” she quickly brushed over, “they just took Carey. I don’t know how right now, but I’m going to Dallas. I can give you the details later. Just wanted you to know.”  
She ended the call and looked up into the street again. There was no sign of the van. Taking a deep breath and trying not to cry, she called Rachel.  
“Rach? Yeah he’s gone. Please come get me.”


	9. Chapter 9

Mark was debating if he should offer them wine when he heard the elevator arrive. He decided against it. They were Italian – they probably knew their wines and he’d most likely choose something they didn’t like. He had to somehow get back on side.  
He was ready and waiting as the doors opened. The first person he saw was Russo.  
“Miller,” the elder man gave him a nod as he walked out with his cane, both John and the shorter guy flanking him, “it’s good to see you again.”  
“Sure,” Mark was looking between his henchmen nervously.  
“Don’t be so worried,” Russo mused, stopping just in front of him, “I’m sure our little mishap was a once-off. Please.”  
He indicated for Mark to lead the way into the dining area. Hating having to turn his back on these people already, he complied.  
He took up the seat they’d first sat him in when they’d first met. Russo took up the head of the table like before.  
“So what do you want from me?” Mark kept his eyes to the table, tracing the pattern on the tablecloth with his pointer finger.  
“Straight down to business,” John mused, taking up post behind him.  
“You met Janine, yes?” Russo was patient.  
“Yes,” Mark confirmed.  
“Her brother, Thomas, has found himself in a bit of trouble with the law. We need you to defend him in a preliminary hearing tomorrow afternoon.”  
Mark was just glad to hear that it was in the afternoon. He didn’t think he could handle a morning job at this point.  
“What did he do?” he asked.  
He jumped when John dropped a pile of papers onto the table beside him.  
“Some light reading for tonight,” Russo indicated them, “you will need to familiarise yourself with the Illinois laws regarding the possession of marijuana.”  
“Great,” Mark muttered, pulling the top sheet closer so he could see the header.  
“I get the impression he might have had some experience with this kind of thing,” John mused aloud.  
“In California, yeah,” Mark corrected, “but not here.”  
“It shouldn’t be too much of a stretch,” Russo assured, “the paperwork details the charges Thomas has come under. We’ll need you to come up with a way to exonerate him of them all.”  
“Wait… I have to?” Mark’s brow rose, “I thought this was supposed to be me fronting up to say whatever you wanted me to. How am I supposed to know what a lawyer would do in this situation?!”  
“Figure it out,” John was looking down scornfully.  
“ _Figure it out_?! I don’t have any experience with this side of things! What if I fuck up? Does my brother have to pay for that too?!”  
“Calm down,” Russo insisted, “I have complete faith in your ability to see this through.”  
“Well that makes one of us,” Mark’s brow rose, “I should have had more time.”  
“That’s not our problem,” John scorned.  
“It _is_ your fucking problem!” Mark insisted, turning to look up at him, “and I didn’t fucking run, I was _taken_! You know how that happened?! This!”  
He patted the back of his neck.  
“You were supposed to help me get this chip out! You were supposed to help me get rid of the scientists! Now whenever they take me, you consider that _running_? Fuck that!”  
“We were well aware that you were not taken of your own will from the apartment – at first,” Russo corrected, his calm tone making Mark’s hairs stand up, “but that is not what you were punished for.”  
“Then what?” Mark asked between his teeth, not looking in his direction.  
“You ran back to LA. You took your luggage with you. That tells us you weren’t intending to return. That, my dear boy, constitutes running.”  
Mark paused at that before rubbing his face tiredly as he looked down at the paperwork again.  
“What time do you need me to be ready?” he asked, signalling his defeat.

Alex was waiting anxiously for the news of Carey’s arrival. Damien had long gone to work, but he’d promised to let Alex know once Carey got there. It was just before lunch when Damien returned to confirm it, but he insisted that they eat before going to see him.  
Alex hated that Damien could control him so easily, but he wasn’t about to argue with someone who could change his mind at any moment about being ‘friends’ and throw him in a cell. He was beginning to wonder if this was what it was like being friends with some kind of dictator.  
He ate faster than Damien, immediately getting indigestion. He denied Damien’s offer for something to help it and insisted he just wanted to see Carey. Finally Damien relented and led him toward the same area they were keeping Colin in.  
They had to walk past Colin to the room beside his, and thanks to the large window Alex got a preview of what he was in for. At first he thought his mind was playing tricks on him and it was actually Colin, but the extra equipment in the room proved him wrong.  
“We have to wait until they tell us we can go in,” Damien insisted, indicating the doctors inside with him already, “or we’ll get in their way.”  
“Okay,” Alex hugged himself nervously.  
They stood in silence to watch as the monitors were all tested and one of the doctors took a sample of Carey’s blood. Alex took in the splints and the bandages as he tried to guess what had happened to him. The only obvious thing was that his legs were both broken.  
The doctors were taking their time to make sure everything was perfect and Alex began to appreciate why Damien hadn’t been in a rush. He was just wondering if he should go and tell Jesse first when they finally began to make their way outside.  
“Everything in order?” Damien asked them as the second one left the door open behind him.  
“Of course,” the first replied, “don’t adjust anything. Morris will be up soon.”  
Damien didn’t respond to that. He waited until they were out of the way before indicating for Alex to make his way inside. Apprehensively, he stepped past.  
Because he’d only seen Carey’s right side from the window, the bruising on the left side of his face was a shock. The last three fingers on his right hand had been thickly bandaged, and both legs were of course in raised splints. The bandaging on his head was lesser than Colin’s but there was visually a lot more healing to be done.  
“Do we know what happened?” Alex was near breathless.  
“No,” Damien picked up a chart from the end of the bed, “but there’s a lot of broken bones, and he’s already had a couple of surgeries.”  
“What surgeries?” Alex frowned.  
Damien quickly read down the chart, then took a moment to translate it into something Alex would understand.  
“A punctured lung and a missing finger,” he came out with.  
Alex’s hand shot to his mouth at the thought of Carey losing a finger. Somehow it seemed worse than the fact that he was in a coma.  
“It’s looking promising though,” Damien was still reading the chart.  
“How is it promising?” Alex shook his head.  
“Well he’s obviously been through a great trauma,” Damien pointed out, “the coma is a chance for him to heal in more ways than one. Hopefully when he wakes up we won’t have to fork out for a ton of therapy.”  
Alex hesitated at that. Damien was speaking formally, but at least he’d said ‘when’ and not ‘if’. That was promising to Alex in itself.  
“This isn’t weird for you?” he asked Damien, “seeing them laying there… thinking it could have been you?”  
“No,” Damien frowned, confused as to why it would be, “it couldn’t have been me. I’d never find myself in a situation that escalated to this point.”  
“Not even in Russia?” Alex asked, realising now just how immune Damien seemed to think he was.  
Damien paused at that. None of the clones knew about the interrogation he’d been through, and he wasn’t about to tell any of them either. He’d just prefer to forget it had even happened.  
“No,” he lied, putting the chart back.  
“Such a shame…”  
They both turned – Alex sharply – when they heard Morris behind them. He strode in with his hands behind his back, making Alex step aside.  
“For someone as active as Carey Miller to end up like this, isn’t it?”  
“Whatever,” Damien muttered to himself.  
“What are you going to do with him?” Alex asked, his worry showing again.  
Helping Carey get better couldn’t be the only reason they’d brought him in, he was sure.  
“Nothing until he heals,” Morris assured before looking to Damien, “what is the status on Marcus?”  
“He wasn’t there,” Damien replied, “the tracer says he’s gone back to Chicago.”  
“That’s odd,” Morris thought out loud, “but no bother. We’ll see him again I’m sure.”  
“You’re going to do those tests on him, aren’t you?” Alex checked.  
“We may as well while he’s here,” Morris shrugged nonchalantly, “and even if he wakes up tomorrow, which doesn’t seem likely, he won’t be going anywhere until his legs heal. We have a good six weeks or so before he can learn to walk again.”  
Alex’s eyes went to the splints, knowing he was right. Carey wouldn’t be going anywhere for a long time.  
“Is there anything I can do?” he felt like he should offer.  
“Stay on call in case he needs blood?” Damien suggested, “you’re a closer match than I am. But we should otherwise have it covered. It’s up to Carey when he wakes up now.”  
“I’ll have some of the specialists from downstairs come and take a look at him tomorrow. It’s getting late now,” Morris seemed to hint.  
“Right,” Damien agreed, “we should be going.”  
“I want to see Jesse first. Before I go back,” Alex insisted, making Morris pause in the doorway.  
“Why?” Damien frowned.  
“To let him know Carey’s here,” Alex frowned in return, thinking it had been obvious.  
“I can do that,” Morris insisted, “I need to go and have a talk with him. You two can retire for the night and come back fresh in the morning.”  
“Goodnight!” Damien called after him as he disappeared.  
He shot Alex an unamused glance before leading their way out. Alex took one last look at Carey before following.

Jesse had been expecting Alex when the door had opened long after dinner, but when Morris came through instead his back straightened. His eyes locked to the doctor as he made his way in, making sure the security guard was right behind him.  
“Mr Musgrove, glad to see you’re still here,” he couldn’t help but smile, “I must admit I had my doubts.”  
“You got nothing to worry about from me,” Jesse didn’t bother standing from the bed, “as long as you play by the rules this time.”  
“Yes, well… about that…” Morris tilted his head, “we do need to ask you some questions about your time in Russia. To see if you can fill in any blanks that Damien has left us.”  
“I’m not sure I can help with that,” Jesse shook his head, “they weren’t big on talking.”  
“We don’t necessarily need their words so much as their actions…” Morris began to pace a little, “Damien tells us that he was put on display along with Carey and Taylor in an effort to prove your likeness. Did you happen to see who they were displayed to?”  
“I may have gotten a glimpse,” Jesse clasped his hands.  
“Did you recognise any of them?” the doctor’s eyes narrowed.  
“Not their faces,” Jesse admitted right away.  
“But you recognised something.”  
“I did.”  
“Would you care to share with the class?” Morris raised a brow.  
Jesse hesitated before diverting his eyes.  
“If you know something you need to tell us,” Morris insisted, “particularly if you and your brothers are still in danger.”  
Jesse frowned at the term, knowing none of the other clones would have liked it.  
“Of course if there’s someone else you’d rather talk to about this…”  
“How closely do you work with Homeland Security?” Jesse looked up.  
“Different departments,” Morris considered, “but we certainly have ties at the mid-level.”  
“Get me a meeting with someone at the highest level you have access to, and I’ll see what I can do,” Jesse offered, “but I’m not talking national security with lab technicians.”


	10. Chapter 10

Emma found herself wishing she had her annoying husband by her side, pestering her to take her bags, as she navigated the Dallas airport on her own with Ellie. She made it to her Tulsa flight with help from staff, and once she was on the ground in Tulsa found Natalie already waiting for her. The drive back to her house was a solemn one, but Ellie was quiet the whole way.  
Her plan was to spend the night in Tulsa and fly back into Dallas the next day. The Hansons knew the address of the lab and she had no intention of making an awkward phone call to them so she’d decided to just show up. If they didn’t let her in, she’d stay in a nearby hotel until they did.  
Leaving Ellie was going to be the hardest thing, but just as she had hoped Natalie’s kids were all over her again. After what had happened in LA, she couldn’t really think of a safer place for her daughter.   
Natalie introduced her to their nanny that afternoon and Emma found no reservations about her. Taylor didn’t get home from work until late and they barely spoke to each other. Taylor because he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, and Emma because she already was. It was an odd sensation to see him move in the corner of her eye and to subconsciously think that it was Carey in his place. They both retired to bed early but Emma didn’t sleep.

Mark shot awake when he heard the elevator stop at his floor. He’d been on edge all night and hadn’t actually _planned_ to get some sleep, but he’d passed out while trying to cram the information from the papers overnight.  
He quickly gathered what had fallen to the floor from the table before getting to his feet. By the time he did, Janine and the shorter henchman had found him.  
“Hi,” she smiled in greeting, “you again?”  
“Me again,” he had to clear his throat, “sorry I was just-“  
“Studying, I know.”  
She came to set her silver case down on the table beside the paperwork, the man opting to stay out of the room altogether.  
“You can keep going while we get you ready,” she assured.  
“Ready?” he frowned, checking his watch.  
It wasn’t even midday yet.  
“Yes, don’t forget this takes time,” she insisted, “although I like what you’ve done with your face. Who did it?”  
Mark paused for a moment as his not-near-awake brain tried to process what she was talking about.  
“Russians,” was all he came out with.  
“Okay…” she looked sorry she’d asked, “why don’t you go and have a shower and I’ll be ready when you get out? Don’t bother putting a shirt back on.”  
Mark’s brow rose at that, but he knew what she was talking about. He took a quick look out to where the guy was waiting before heading for the bedroom.  
He took longer than he’d intended to but he threw on a pair of jeans and continued towelling his hair dry as he made his way back to the dining area. Janine had set the chair up so he could still sit at the table and read. Already having trouble focusing his eyes, he wasn’t looking forward to getting back to work.  
“Take a seat,” she indicated once she spotted him, “we’ll do your hair first.”  
Mark sighed and threw the towel aside before sitting down. He shivered a little as she ran her fingers through his hair before starting to dry it herself.  
It took a good few hours for her to get him up to scratch, and she even chose a suitable wardrobe for the afternoon for him. He’d been writing himself some notes for about twenty minutes when Russo and John showed up.   
“All set to go?” John asked as he came into the dining area, Russo opting to wait by the elevator.  
“Nearly,” Janine assured, quickly coming to inspect Mark’s face and interrupting his study once again.  
She worked to cover the small bit of red still to the right of his mouth. It took seconds and once she gave her nod John grabbed him by the shoulder.  
“I’m not ready!” Mark insisted, indicating the paperwork.  
“You can read in the car,” John scoffed, ready to wait for him to collect everything.  
Mark grit his teeth but gathered everything into the briefcase he’d taken to Tony’s parole hearing. They waited until he had it together and had grabbed his jacket before escorting him downstairs. The doorman purposely diverted his eyes as they walked out to the waiting car.  
As Mark suspected, he didn’t have time to study further on the way. By the time they pulled up outside the building his right knee was bouncing erratically. John had to physically pull him from the car.  
“Don’t fuck this up,” he warned under his breath, “or you know what’ll happen.”  
“If I do it’s not on me,” Mark muttered, straightening his jacket.  
He tensed when he felt John’s hand on the back of his neck.   
“You might not want to press your luck,” his voice lowered.  
“You know what? Fuck that!” Mark threw him off and stepped aside, “I’m already sick of being treated like a punk-ass kid! If you guys had done your fucking job in the first place none of this would have happened! You were _supposed_ to keep the scientists off my back, but they still took me. That’s on you. Of course I fucking ran! They know exactly where to find me here, why the fuck would I stay?!”  
“Keep your voice down,” John warned.  
“Or what?” Mark stepped closer to the larger man, his fear completely replaced with anger at this point, “what are you going to do? You need me, asshole.”  
“We don’t need all of you,” Russo’s voice came from the car’s direction.  
He’d gotten out, wondering what was taking so long. Mark didn’t bother turning around.  
“Then when can I expect you to live up to your end of the bargain?” he demanded, “if I’m doing all this shit for you, when do I get some compensation?”  
“You’ve done two things,” John scorned, “don’t get high and mighty on us.”  
“And since then I’ve been kidnapped by mercenaries and taken to fucking _Russia_ where they were trying to sell us off!” Mark’s voice rose again, “what were you going to do if _that_ happened? Huh?!”  
“Your problems are not our problems,” Russo attempted to reiterate, “much like your brother’s current problems are not our problems.”  
“It was a simple thing,” Mark finally turned on him, “just get the chip out, that’s all I asked for. If you’d done that, maybe none of this would be happening.”  
“And the way I remember it, you upfront offered to be our ‘bitch’,” John smirked from behind.  
“Are you going to do this, or not?” Russo indicated the building.  
“Of course I’m going to do this,” Mark scorned, “because I said that I would. But I’m pissed off and you needed to know that!”  
He looked between them before making his own way up the path. Russo locked eyes with John who soon followed him.

“Hey,” Alex greeted as he entered the cells.  
“Hey,” Jesse returned, turning on his bed, “everything okay?”  
“I guess,” Alex checked over his shoulder, “did Morris see you?”  
“He did,” Jesse confirmed, “Carey not awake yet?”  
Alex shook his head, starting to fidget with his fingers as he looked dismal.  
“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Carey’s a fighter,” Jesse tried to reassure.  
“I guess.”  
There was an awkward moment of silence as Jesse looked Alex over.  
“What is it?” he asked.  
“I don’t know,” Alex admitted with a frown, “I just have this feeling that everything’s about to turn to shit, you know? And I don’t know if it’s just because I don’t have a distraction here or if it’s because I feel like I’m on constant lockdown or if it’s because I don’t have my damn console.”  
“Take it easy,” Jesse stood from the bed, “you could be stressing over nothing. Is something going on out there that I don’t know about?”  
Alex checked over his shoulder again.  
“No, not really,” he shrugged, “I just… it’s really hard, you know? It’s like Damien’s constantly following me around, and using surveillance on me when he’s not physically there. I don’t know if this is better than being on the run or not.”  
“This isn’t really about feeling safe though, is it?” Jesse tried to point out, “this is about facing your fears. And as long as you’re here, and you’re doing what they want, they have no reason to hurt you. They have no reason to chase you.”  
He shrugged in return.  
“Maybe a little surveillance isn’t so bad when that’s the price to pay for peace of mind.”  
“But it’s not peace of mind at all,” Alex shook his head, “I’m scared on a daily basis that he’s going to change his mind. That I’m going to end up in here with you, or worse.”  
“I won’t let them do worse,” Jesse promised, “I swear to you. I won’t let them.”  
Alex chewed on his lip, thinking there was no way Jesse could really keep that promise.  
“I think this whole thing with the Russians has just… amplified everything,” he admitted, “I mean they changed everything. They killed my Mom. They basically killed me too. I can’t go back to what I was but I don’t know that I want to keep going the way I am. In Russia, we didn’t have a choice. Maybe they aren’t the only country that wants something like that from us, and what’s to stop someone else trying? Like how many people even know about us? _We_ didn’t even know about us!”  
“There’s nothing to stop anyone else from trying,” Jesse agreed, “there’s nothing to stop the Russians from trying again. We just need to be more prepared.”  
“But… you handled Russia,” Alex frowned, “didn’t you call in a favor or something? So they had to let us go?”  
“I only stopped something momentarily,” Jesse’s eyes met his, “it was never something that was going to last.”  
“What?” Alex hugged himself, his anxiety again on the rise.  
“They were prepared, think about it,” Jesse’s eyes narrowed, “they had everything ready for us, we just had to show up. The cells weren’t clean but they weren’t old either. They had an entire project based around our acquisition and our use.”  
“You think they aren’t done with us,” Alex realised.  
“I think it was just the beginning, yes,” Jesse mirrored his stance, “I’ve organised to talk to Homeland Security about what intel I gathered from the inside, but it isn’t much. If you heard anything while you were outside of the cell it would help a lot.”  
“I didn’t understand any of it, it was all in Russian,” Alex shrugged.  
“What about the way they moved, the way they spoke, how you were treated?”  
“I don’t know. We were just on display. They were showing people the difference between me and Damien, because I’m paler and need glasses I guess.”  
“I know they were intent on distinguishing our differences,” Jesse said thoughtfully, “they wanted us to be more similar than we were.”  
“But why? What would they want with clones in the first place?” Alex frowned worriedly.  
“What wouldn’t they want with clones that they could bend to their will?” Jesse shrugged, “from a military point of view, it could be the best weapon they ever had.”  
“Weapon?!” Alex felt his hairs stand on end, “but how? What could we possibly do?!”  
“We didn’t hang around long enough to find out,” Jesse reasoned, “and we should probably be glad that we didn’t.”


End file.
